Dark Attics of the Mind
by Annamonk
Summary: This was supposed to be a one shot for my darling, Omslagspapper. Then the plot bunnies grabbed me. They've held me down and forced a few more chapters into the story. It's all about young Riddle finding something better than world domination. (not my sandbox, but I love playing in it)
1. Chapter 1

Horace Slughorn knew he'd stumbled into trouble. The Riddle boy was pushing the boundaries, trying to master magic. He hadn't yet grasped the most basic principle of true mastery. Respect.

Young Tom was powerful, and he held himself to higher standards than his classmates. Ambition was a fine thing, but the boy had yet to learn caution. The risks he took in the dueling club were harbingers of things to come if the boy didn't learn to value life and love.

Going to Dippet would only make the situation worse. Dumbledore would involve himself as the Headmaster's assistant, and things would go from bad to far, far worse. Horace swallowed down his fear. Riddle needed help but not the variety he sought.

He glanced toward the gift his master had bestowed upon him. He'd never once felt the urge to use it for himself. He'd followed the one rule given to him in regards to it. Never allow Albus Dumbledore to touch it. That Flamel had been so adamant did spark his curiosity, but he'd known there would be no answers. Nicholas Flamel liked his secrets.

He picked up the blown glass dome and picked up the specially designed time turner. It was worked in goblin mined gold and dwarvish silver. The sand within shifted colors with each movement of the device. He examined the engraved words once again.

 _The greatest knowledge, I concede, I will furnish what you need. Only once, and then I'm done until I find another one._

"Professor." Young Riddle knocked at his open office door. There was no more time to consider his path.

"Come in, my boy." Horace smiled broadly and turned toward the handsome young man. "I was just thinking about you."

"It is kind of you to keep me close in your mind." Tom smiled. The boy needed to practice his lying if he was going to keep at it. The insincerity shone clearly in his eyes.

"There was no kindness intended." Horace allowed his affable gaze to harden. "You are overreaching, and I fear what you will do without proper guidance. The dark arts are not a toy."

"I am aware of that, sir." Tom nodded appropriately, almost deferentially. "That is why I sought your august council."

"August council, indeed." Horace shook his head. "Laying it on a bit thick, Mr. Riddle. I am aware of my limitations. If you were seeking knowledge of obscure potions, my mind would be the one to seek. Alas, you are not. My knowledge would not serve you, but I have a way for you to obtain what you need. Have a seat. This will take some explaining."

Tom Riddle sat on the edge of his seat. He did not relax. He did not slump as the young are oft inclined to do. His eyes wandered around the room in a carefully careless manner.

This man was a young predator. He was still adapting to the world around him. There was hope. Horace took a deep breath. It wasn't easy being an agent of salvation.

* * *

Tom stared at the delicate device in his hand. He'd known going to Slughorn would yield results, but this bit of metal and magic seemed too good to be true. He glanced at Brax and Orion as they dueled. They were elegant, but they held none of the fire he wanted.

Malfoy and Black were well settled in their power. They had never wanted for anything. He had learned to mimic their behavior, but he was well aware it was an act. Though they envied his power, he was still lesser.

Hat in hand was no way to live. His gift for the dark arts would carry him only so far. His Slytherin heritage wouldn't overcome his blood status. At best, he'd work for a tosser with half his ability. He hated his muggle heritage, hated the non magical parts of himself.

"Are you coming?" Brax grinned and tossed his head back to clear his face of his silver blond hair. "Dorea Black is flirting with that arse, Potter, again. Too bad Orion can't sit on his older cousin. A Gryffindor, of all things."

"I'll leave you to your mocking." Tom waved the pair off. "I have a spell I'm working on."

"When don't you?" Orion waggled his brows. "A little time with the ladies would serve you well."

"Yes, yes, so you say." Tom dropped his gaze and waited for the pair to depart, sun and shadow, two princes returning victorious to their kingdom.

Tom took a deep breath and considered the path before him. There was no point in lying to himself. He needed power. He had to secure a place for himself in this world. Being friends with Brax and Orion gave him nice places to visit, but they weren't his. He needed to be strong enough to find and hold his place or others would take it.

He'd seen it enough at the orphanage. His magic had fought for him before he had even realized he was different, but it hadn't spared him completely. He'd been to weak and too pretty. The older boys had enjoyed his whimpers and his tears as much as they had his body. Eventually, he'd learned to protect himself. He'd gotten his revenge. It wasn't sweet and left him feeling hollow, but it was his.

It was the only thing that was truly his.

He stroked the curved glass within the device. He recognized seduction. The lure of easily gained knowledge was strong, but there was a cost. There had to be. It couldn't be keeping the thing from the great and mighty Dumbledore. That was practically a reward.

Still, it was a chance. Things could go wrong. The price could be too high. He knew that. Merlin, he knew it too well, but there was the slimmest chance this could work. He had to try.

He draped the chain around his neck and set the gyroscopic circles spinning. The world around him blurred. Temperatures surged and plummeted. He regretted having ever eaten as his stomach twisted and tried to empty. So, some part of his mind catalogued the pain and the suffering, there was a price. It would fall to him to make sure he got the better end of the broom.


	2. Chapter 2

If this was the better end of the broom, he was well and truly buggered. Dumbledore sat across from him stroking his ridiculous beard. The man had gained the post of headmaster and his bias against certain students was still all to clear.

"I see no benefit to placing you back in Slytherin. Your knowledge of their grandparents won't serve you there, and the tolerance for half bloods has actually diminished." Dumbledore sighed. "There is another option for you. At the moment, we have a rogue house, for want of a better term. The castle stops all attempts to reintegrate the students. It is a quandary."

"A rogue house, sir?" Tom leaned forward. This was interesting. Hogwarts didn't accept change easily, and the castle's defense of it was remarkable.

"The Ouroboros are headed by Miss Granger. She's not to be trifled with. Many have made that mistake. She is the first muggleborn sorted into Slytherin, top of her class academically, dueling champion since her first year. Your house refused her on her very first night." Dumbledore frowned. "Professor Sinistra, your current head of house, thought it best to provide her with her own chambers. It grew from there."

"So, send me to my new room." Tom smiled. "I will not make waves with Miss Granger."

"It isn't that easy." Dumbledore plucked a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk. "I can not assign you a spot in their rooms and the hat can not sort you there. You must meet with the group and be accepted. If she will not take you, I will contact other schools and find you a place."

Tom bit back the growl that rose in his throat. This was some sort of test. Dumbledore had always hated him, and, now, the old goat had a way to humiliate him. The headmaster wanted him gone and was using some capricious and horrible little girl as his agent.

"When will I meet with this girl and her house mates?" Tom forced a nervous smile to his lips.

"They are in herbology at the moment. They refuse to leave a class in session. Most commendable, really." Dumbledore nodded, but the glint of anger in his eyes was very evident. "They will arrive after class."

"May I have a recent history text?" Tom glanced down at his hands and rolled his shoulders forward slightly. He needed to look overwhelmed to Dumbledore's keen eyes. "Everything is so different."

"I'm afraid I don't have any history books here in my office." Dumbledore smiled, but I do have a book of muggle poetry you might find edifying."

"Thank you, sir." Tom nodded his head and accepted the book of poetry about life from a dog's perspective. How very doll. It wouldn't do to roll his eyes.

He opened the book and pretended to read. Anything was better than having to converse with the headmaster. He let his eyes pick over the words. The occasional phrase would grab him, but none of it truly mattered. The noise of an approaching group of people came as a relief.

He glanced toward Dumbledore and caught the flash of irritation in the old man's countenance. The girl and her little band of rebels obviously annoyed him. Perhaps, there was some advantage to be found in joining this group.

"Come in, Miss Granger." Dumbledore glared at the door. "I summoned you, after all. Bring in your compatriots."

"Have you reconsidered our request?" Her voice was clear and her words clipped. Tom took a deep breath and refused to turn and examine her.

"You know I have not, nor will I." Dumbledore stood and flattened his hand on his desk top. "The castle may make allowances for you, but, in good conscience, I can not. No, I summoned you here to meet a student in need of some assistance."

"He seems to think my place is in your house." Tom stood and turned toward the newcomers. At first glance, they were an odd group. Two boys beginning to sprout into manhood. One dreamy eyes blonde and a girl with more affection for her cat than her cloak formed a semicircle behind the girl that must be Miss Granger.

Tom took a deep breath. Some base part of him flared to life. He'd never felt this before. Others were weak. He'd used their attraction to him from time to time, but he had never felt it. Objectively, she was modestly attractive with her creamy skin and her untamed hair. Her features were even and symmetrical. There were greater beauties, but this thing inside him wanted her. He dragged another breath into his lungs and clenched a fist against his leg. This was not the time to give in to baser urges.

"You can't sort people into our house." Miss Granger narrowed her eyes and focused her gaze on the headmaster.

"I will find a portrait to protect your dormitory, but you must accept Mr. Riddle into your group." Dumbledore put on his kindly indulgent face.

"No." Tom held his unclenched hand up. "I won't be forced on them. It's hard enough knowing most of my friends have grandchildren here. I will not go where I am not wanted."

He saw her eyes as they did a swift inventory of him. She controlled her responses with ease. It wasn't hard to believe she was a dueling champion.

"So, you're Sluggy's lost boy?" She ignored Dumbledore's censuring gasp. "You were a Slytherin prefect. Why not rejoin your old house?"

"I will not have that house dropped into chaos again." Dumbledore slapped his hand on his desk. "Your prank with the long lasting veritaserum had them at each other's throats for weeks."

"I didn't do it." Miss Granger shook her head and set her curls to bouncing. "I wish I had."

Tom took in her body language and examined her for any tells. There was no flush in her cheeks, no change in her eyes. She gave away nothing, but he was quite sure she had been behind the prank. He brushed against her mind expecting to read her surface thoughts, but he found only a cool darkness.

 _You should ask._

It was her voice in his head.

 _Nope. It's you reading my thoughts in my head. I'm good at occluding, but you should ask before you invade someone's privacy._

He swallowed and nodded. The urge to apologize was new.

 _You aren't used to being wrong, or you aren't used to caring if you are._

She sounded smug.

 _This is fun. Dumbledore doesn't like either of us._

He had to agree with that assessment.

 _How dangerous are you?_

There was no good way to respond to that query.

 _We're a package deal. You can't play games in our house, and if you harm one of us I will make you suffer._

Why on earth did her threats seem so appealing?

"What do you think, Luna?" Miss Granger asked the blonde. "Is he one of us?"

"Not yet." The blonde focused her wide blue eyes on him. "He needs us though."

"Any objections?" Miss Granger looked to each of her fellows, but no one offered dissent.

"He needs a new uniform and books." Miss Granger turned to face Dumbledore. "We will need passes for Hogsmeade to get him kitted out with everything else."

Tom watched as she organized his assimilation into her group with astonished amusement. Dumbledore had agreed to her demands without much fuss. The girl was a force of nature. In a matter of minutes, they were walking away with six passes clenched in her hand and the promise of a selection of willing portraits for the group to interview. It seemed they wanted a good fit.

"Learn quickly, Tom." The blonde rested her fingers against his arm. He repressed the urge to brush away the contact. "Hermione doesn't hunt small game."


	3. Chapter 3

Tom followed the group through the halls. It was interesting to note the slight changes in his environment. The bustle of the other students was soothingly familiar.

"Bugger." Greg, the more mountainous of his two new male compatriots, flicked his wrist and caught his wand.

"Every bloody day." Neville went through the same procedure. He glanced over his shoulder. "Get your wand out, Riddle. This will get ugly."

Tom focused his attention on the rapidly approaching Gryffindors. Hermione stood in front of the group with her hands at rest. She looked at ease, but there was something in the set of her shoulder that worried him.

"You need to fix this." A dark haired witch pulled a tall and gangly redhead out from behind her. He had a knitted cap pulled down low on his forehead. It did little to enhance his appearance.

"No. I do not." Hermione emphasized each word and glanced at the boy's head. "Your boy toy is not my problem, Lyra."

Tom looked the girl over. She was clearly a Black, but the Gryffindor robes were odd. No member of that family belonged in the house of the lions. He studied her more closely. She looked a bit like Orion. It was something in the haughty tilt of her chin and the narrowing of her eyes.

"You designed the charm." The Black witch stomped her feet. "You must have designed a counter."

"I created that charm to prove that none of us were cheating. It has been tested, verified, and patented." Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Hogwarts has the right to use it for the next ten years without adding to my vault, but I make a tidy sum from Durmstrang and Salem. If I designed a counter, I would lose that."

"You can fix him." Lyra pulled her wand with an elegant flourish. "Galleons won't matter if you don't."

"If you want the mark gone, go to Professor Flitwick. It was his test." Hermione's hair began to sparkle as her excess magic escaped in a dazzling light show. "Don't make hollow threats. We both know I can take you."

"If we go to Flitwick, Ron won't be able to play quidditch this week."

Tom ignored the convoluted exchange of words to study this girl that thought to challenge Hermione. She was lovely in the way all the Black witches were. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. The mugglism floated through his mind. It was untrue. He could see the beauty in her form and the power within her, but she held no appeal. His natural attraction to witches that had annoyed him since the advent of puberty did not respond to the Gryffindor. The only witch that appealed to him now was Hermione Granger.

He paused and considered that. The witch was his. He knew it. It would only be a matter of time until she did. Finding her complicated things.

His plans and ambitions needed thought. Priorities would have to be assessed and reevaluated. There would be a family at some point. Children would cement the bonds between them. They would bind her to him completely.

He would have to research in the muggle world. Wizards didn't examine psychology in any way in his time, and he doubted that had changed. His upbringing gave him no basis for these new roles. He had never planned to be a husband and father. He'd never imagined being either. A wife and children hardly fit in with his previous plans.

Perhaps he could lure her into joining him in pursuing the dark arts. He examined her closely, his witch. She was strong. Her magic was every bit the match for his. The dark would make them great.

The witch that was impeding their progress was starting to make the low voiced, ugly threats that came with the inbred instability of the Black lineage.

"I had nothing to do with what happened to Potter." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You hexed him." The dark haired witch stamped her foot.

"They checked my wand. They checked all of our wands." Hermione sounded bored. "Aurors were called. If we had been the culprits, they would have known. We are hardly his only victims here at school. Perhaps your cousin could explain. Actually, any member of your family in Slytherin has more of an axe to grind with dear Potter than I do, so take your idiotic threats and leave us be."

"I told you she wouldn't help us." The red headed fool finally spoke.

"She will or I'll tell the headmaster about why she attacked Potter." Lyra's eyes sparkled.

"Do it." Hermione closed the distance between them in one stride. "The aurors can come again, and I'll give them the evidence that Dumbledore can't make disappear. Your golden boy will spend the next fifty years in Azkaban, and I will make you wish you could join him."

"Neville." The witch looked toward him with wide eyes. "Please."

"Please what, Lyra?" The boy took a step forward. "Please help you? Why would I? For a betrothal you squirmed out of the day after I was ousted from my house? I owe you nothing. You didn't stand up for me. I won't betray my friends for you."

"Our families..."

"Are friendly. Your parents and my parents get along. I owe you nothing for them. You wanted your freedom. Enjoy it. If you call the aurors, ask them to send my parents. I haven't seen them in two years. It would be a nice visit."

The girl flushed a bright red and stepped back. Her eyes darted between Hermione and Neville. Shoulders drooping, the girl pocketed her wand.

"There's nothing you can do?" She looked at Hermione.

"No." Hermione offered no sympathy. "Are we done?"

"Don't worry Lyra. Harry thinks he can fix it." The daft boy grabbed the witch's arm. "I trust him more anyway."

"Ron be careful not to drink any pumpkin juice in the next two days, Ron." The small, dreamy blonde examined the taller boy. "Your aura is in flux, and red and pink clash."

"See?" The red head pulled the Black witch away. "Loony is at it again. The whole lot of them are barmy."

"He's going to let Potter try to lift that charm and we're the barmy ones?" Greg snorted.

"When it all goes wrong, they'll come for us." Hermione frowned. "We need to get back to the rooms so I can fit Tom with a holster and stitch in the standard protections to his new robes."

"Welcome to The Ouroboros." Greg clapped him on the shoulder. "The only house we don't have regular conflict with is Hufflepuff."

"They'd let us in if we'd go." Millicent smiled. "The poor dears could use the academic boost."

"I'm surprised none of them have been marked by the charm." Greg watched a few younger students scurry by him.

"Not the Hufflepuff way." Hermione waved them forward. "We are running drills tonight."

"I'll need him after." Luna looked first to Hermione and then to him. "The ink will need to be adjusted. His aura isn't clear. I need to compensate for it."

Tom eyed the blonde warily. Hermione accepted her ramblings about auras without problem. Was she truly gifted or did they just indulge her dotty behavior?

"Of course, the yinnyfigits gathering around you indicate that you will be the one to balance him permanently." Luna hummed and smiled at them all. "I like the number six. It breaks down nicely and reforms with such ease. It's also curvy."


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione watched the newest member of her little rebellion mill around their common room. It wasn't a grand space like the Slytherin one, not that she's ever spent much time there, but the place made an impression. This one wasn't grand or even ambitious. The furniture was comfortable if a tad shabby. None of it matched, and none of it mattered. The absolute lack of a color scheme didn't stop the elves from cleaning it, so it served its purpose. There were only five of them. Six. They were six now. The space didn't need to be large.

She watched him pace in his new uniform. He was handsome. Not that it mattered to her. The power in him was like a siren's call, but he made her nervous. Tom Riddle was aptly named, and his current irritation baffled her.

"I don't understand why you need to cast protective charms on my person." Tom paced and grimaced as he rubbed his fingers along the runes she'd stitched into the hem of his new robes. "I can protect myself."

She blinked at him and considered the gulf between them. The room was tiny. It seemed smaller as his magic pressed against hers. None of that mattered. He simply didn't want her help.

"We all wear the robes." Hermione flipped back her hem to display the careful embroidery.

"The runes are fine, but you expect me to allow you to set charms on my person that you do not wear." Tom crossed his arms over his chest. "I will not be a burden to you."

"They are my family. They are not burdens." Hermione stood up. He was tall enough without her conceding a few more inches by sitting. "You are not a burden."

"Do you care about me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Am I family to you already? I know that I am not, that you do not."

Hermione blinked as she felt his magic wrap around her physically. There was no threat in it. She felt comforted and appreciated for a moment, then his magic caressed her skin. It was the oddest sensation like fairy wings mixed with static electricity.

"You spend far too much energy taking care of others." Riddle approached her, his stride balanced and confident. "Do you let them care for you? If I asked your companions, what answers would be offered?"

She felt his magic spooling around her. It undulated against her, brimming with life and power. Her own magic rose and swirled around his, tracing it back to the source. The connection flared between them. She closed her eyes and saw golden runes set into his flesh, riding the curve of his hip.

"I can't answer for them." She managed the words and dragged another breath into her lungs. She forced her eyes open and stared at him. His pale cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted.

"You are their fierce defender. It is in your very nature. You can't escape it." Tom stood just beyond her reach. His own words struggled to break free. "Our relationship will be different. I will hold you sacred. I will be your defender."

"I don't need protection." Hermione closed her eyes again and bit back a moan as their magic twisted and twined.

"Accept me and mine." Tom stepped closer. She could feel his body heat. "And I will do the same."

"Me and mine means each of them." Hermione fought the urge to grab his hand. "I won't accept less."

"I only bring myself and my power. I have nothing more." Tom audibly swallowed. "Is it enough?"

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and studied him. The answer that came so quickly to her wouldn't reassure him. He needed her to consider him, to be sure, because there would be no second guessing.

There was darkness in his magic. The residue of those arts had yet to corrupt him, but he needed to rein in his experimentation. She dragged in another deep breath and started chasing his magic back to his psyche. The scar tissue there was beyond imagining. She flinched at her own imaginings; glad for once that she couldn't see the cause with this method. She pulled away from his hold and met his gaze.

"I don't want to be a queen." She swallowed as the images in his mind shifted from her perched on a lush throne. "We don't need to know where we are going at the moment. We have OWLS. Let's start from there."

She glanced down and held her hand above his. Inches divided her from a complicated future. Her magic pushed at her. The demand was so strong.

"I accept you. I will protect you. I will allow you to protect me." She nodded her head and bit her lower lip. Lowering her hand to his took strength in the maelstrom of their combined power, but the contact glared and everything around them stilled. The ebb and flow of their magic met and settled together. The storm faded away and they were once again themselves.

"I don't think we'll need those protective charms now." He reached up with his free hand and traced her jawline with his fingertips.

"No." Hermione released his hand and stepped back. She could feel the humiliating blush rising in her cheeks. "But there are many things that need sorted."

He nodded and sat on the couch. He looked composed and comfortable. Damn him.

"Dumbledore wants to keep you away from Slytherin." Hermione took a deep breath. "Care to tell me why? There is no way they would reject you."

"My previous interactions with the headmaster were colored by his first impressions of me." Tom looked down at the carpet and his jaw flexed. "I was raised in an orphanage. It was not a bright and wonderful childhood. The matrons did not coddle us. I was peculiar. No decent couple would consider me. I wasn't strong. My magic kept me safe."

Hermione nodded, but she could barely imagine such a lonely existence. She reached out and threaded her fingers through his.

"Dumbledore examined me with the same distaste that the muggles did. I think he would have left me there if I hadn't already started using my magic with control." Tom shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I learned to read adults early on. His dislike wasn't solely down to my magic use though it took until forth year for me to understand that he found me appealing in a certain way."

Hermione blinked. Dumbles certainly wasn't her favorite, but she'd never suspected him of such abuse.

"Don't get me wrong. He doesn't touch, but he yearns. It's the darkness as much as my pretty face." Tom tilted his head. "The darkness draws most Slytherins as well. They don't want the same things, but they want what is natural to me."

"You collected them." Hermione nodded her head. "Made friends with the most powerful."

"There is protection in such connections." Tom frowned. "It's limited, but it exists."

"My protection isn't limited." Hermione pulled him closer to her and leaned against his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

Tom didn't like sitting at the small round table between the house tables and the high table. Their dinner in chambers the night before had been comfortable. This was decidedly not.

He didn't like the red headed twins at the Gryffindor table communicating something to his witch with signals he didn't understand. The pair were older, and their amusement was irking. No one needed to smile that much.

He didn't like the odd sense of foreboding that settled over him when they entered the great hall. Too much of this new world felt hostile.

"Relax." Hermione leaned into his shoulder. "This is the easy part."

"Being forced to sit here on display is the easy part?" He hissed and glared at the Slytherin table. He could see them gossiping. Had his house lost its craft?

"Incoming." Greg muttered and straightened in his seat.

A blond boy with almost effeminate features strolled up to their table. He had the promise of beauty like Brax had, but it was pinched and sharp. Tom sat back and let his wand slide into his hand under the table.

"Hello, muddy one." He smirked and let his eyes slide over Hermione in an insulting manner.

"What brings you to our table, Draco?" Hermione smiled blandly. "Does the Slytherin brain trust need some help with their homework again?"

The quick flash of anger in the Malfoy heir's eyes amused Tom. The boy had not yet developed the skill to obfuscate his emotions. Such a pity.

"You've acquired a new Slytherin for your little band of misfits. We weren't made aware of his presence or his identity." Draco tilted his head and looked Tom over thoroughly.

"I don't fancy partners of the male persuasion, Malfoy." Tom smiled widely, enjoying the shock evident in the grey eyes. "I chose this group. I prefer small, select groups. If your grandfather is still alive, give him my regards. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Riddle went missing while my grandparents were students here." Draco rolled his eyes. "Next, you'll claim to be the heir of Salazar himself."

"My mother was Merope Gaunt." Tom smiled and tilted his head slightly. "I'm sure you will be able to find her in your precious pure blood directory."

"Nothing but a half blood then." Draco smirked. "I'd say you made a good choice for your future."

"I know that I did." Tom turned to Neville and began a discussion about possible uses for Devils' snare in potions. Draco stood there staring with his mouth agape.

"I think you should run along, Malfoy." Hermione made a shooing movement with her hands.

The young wizard snapped to attention and sneered at her. He spun and stormed back to the Slytherin table where the others were watching with wide eyes. His red cheeks and the amused glances of the older students left little doubt that the boy was openly offended.

"I'll pay for that later." Hermione smiled and shook her head. "But it was so worth it."

"I think that's the closest Draco's ever come to the cut direct." Millie chortled. "Did you see his mouth working like a guppy's? Precious."

"Incoming." Neville growled. "One damn prince wasn't enough."

"I was expecting this one." Hermione shrugged. "Lyra and Ron never leave well enough alone."

Hermione pushed her chair back and stood as a black haired wizard arrived at the table. She frowned as he tossed a glove onto her plate. Tom went to stand, but Neville grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"You insulted my kith and kin, hag." The wizard curled his lip and stared down his nose at her. "I demand satisfaction."

"The usual place?" Hermione picked up the glove between her fingers and watched as bits of egg slopped of it to fall on the table. She didn't look at her challenger.

"I think you have a matching set now." Luna smiled at the glove. "But they are much too large for you. You should by her some smaller gloves, Harry. She has delicate hands."

The boy turned toward Luna and clenched his fist against his leg.

"I believe your fight is with me, Harry Potter." Hermione waggled the glove, sending more globs of her breakfast to the table.

"Usual place, usual time." He snarled. "You'd best teach your little pets to behave. They won't enjoy their time without you if you don't."

"Ronald Weasley cheated. The knit caps aren't fooling anyone. The word is there on his forehead. It will remain there until the professor removes it. Lyra cares more about having a boyfriend playing quidditch than honor." Hermione took a deep breath. "We can quit this now."

"No." The boy shook his shaggy head. "I'll see you later."

"Pettigrew is monitoring the dueling club today." Millie frowned. "He never challenges you on days when Professor Flitwick is in charge."

"It doesn't matter." Hermione sat down and examined her plate. "I suppose I'm done eating."

"Your dueling that wizard because of yesterday's confrontation?" Tom frowned at the Gryffindor table.

"No. I'm dueling because I am not allowed to refuse." Hermione shrugged. "We don't have a recognized house or the protections that come with one."

"He would have found another reason to challenge her." Neville shoved his plate toward the center of the table. "He ignored us for so long."

"Do we have to revisit the Yule ball nonsense again?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Viktor asked me a month before any of the others."

"I know that, but you can't deny that Prince Potter was offended that you didn't wait for him." Neville glowered at his plate. "I have to spend large chunks of every summer with him."

"I'm not denying that I bruised his ego, but I wasn't wrong. Viktor actually enjoyed my company, and we all benefitted from studying with him. Harry waited to the last minute and was scrambling for a date." Hermione shook her head. "He expected me to be free."

"The motivations of Harry Potter don't matter." Greg frowned. "We're going to be late for class if we don't get a move on."

Tom watched the others grab their things while trying to categorize all of the information he'd gathered. It came as no surprise that other wizards were after his witch. She was incredible, but there was something he was missing.

"Why is this duel such an issue?" Tom whispered to Neville. "She's a very capable witch."

"She could take Potter apart bit by bit if it were fair, but Dumbledore refuses to allow us status as a house. She's not allowed a second. There's no recourse when he cheats, and he will. There's no head of house to protect us. If she doesn't take him down with her first shot, it's brutal." Neville glared at the floor. "Pettigrew immobilized her as a penalty last time. She threw a jinx of her own design without approval, and she paid for it with nine broken ribs. She's an muggleborn with no head of house or family. We are barred from helping her, and he does this at least twice a month."

"He shouldn't be here any longer." Millie shuddered and pulled her robes around her. "Everytime they let this happen..."

"Let it go, Millie." Hermione sighed. "I'll be fine."

"What happened?" Tom moved through their group to walk next to Hermione. She looked at him from the sides of her eyes.

"He threw a drink on me and ripped my dress while I was waiting for Viktor to get our cloaks." Hermione shrugged. "I hexed him." "He was hurt." Luna smiled widely. "The aurors were called when his mother demanded it be investigated. Dumbledore kept them from pulling our memories and made the issue go away."

Tom watched Hermione move slightly ahead. There was something more to tell. That much was obvious, but he wouldn't be made privy to it yet.

"Harry is a strong wizard. He's arrogant and cruel." Neville sighed. "The other Gryffs flatter him and kiss his arse. His parents and uncles spoiled him. Dumbledore adores him. Malfoy's a rotter, but I'd rather deal with him any day."


	6. Chapter 6

After potions, Tom smiled as his witch's friends laughed. They shared every class, so it was easy to fit in. He didn't have to cultivate alliances or watch his back. It was comforting. The other students had watched him for only a few moments. He had been a minor oddity only.

They watched Hermione though. She made no effort to attract their attention, but she held it. Her public face as a rebellious know it all held them fascinated. If they had ever seen the Machiavellian mind in truth, they would stand in awe.

"Does she always manage to outstrip Malfoy?" He smiled and Luna nodded.

"Always." Luna pirouetted and skipped amongst the group. "He's never brewed a better potion than she has."

"He tried though." Neville chuckled.

"Keeps trying." Greg nodded along. "He did get her the once. It wasn't a better potion though."

"He didn't care for Luna being added to our group. Kept saying we shouldn't be encouraged in our madness." Millie smirked. "He was going to lodge a complaint about her joining our group with the board of governors. His father is on the board. He will be sure to tell you that at some point, but back then he was particularly obsessed with our Luna. She was working through first year material and second at the same time. It was hard work, but we were afraid he'd find some support."

"So, Hermione asked him to give it a month. She was so sweet and so sure of me." Luna snickered. "Malfoy doesn't much care for sweets, and he hated the fact that Hermione had better marks than he did. He decided to take her down a notch. He told her he would give her a month if she brewed a perfect polyjuice potion in that time."

"Is today the day we revisit my every humiliation?" Hermione snarled and stalked ahead of the group. Tom noted that she never traveled too far ahead.

"She brewed it in our common room." Greg shook his head. "There is nothing appealing about that potion. It smells bad, it looks worse, and it makes odd gurgling noises as it simmers. It was also supposed to be well above our skill set, but she did it."

Hermione charged back to the group. He could sense her anger and embarrassment. Her hair was sparking as she glared at each of them in turn.

"Malfoy played me. He claimed It couldn't be real. I was too brash and too proud. I offered to test it. I yanked out one of my own hairs and put it in a cup with a dose of the potion. Millie drank it, and there were two of me standing there." Hermione paced through them with her fists clenched. "He laughed and said he'd back off about Luna, but hadn't I better switch into Millie before someone noticed there were two of me. He plucked a hair off Millie's robes and dropped it in another cup. I poured the potion in and drank it."

"Millie loves her familiar." Neville smiled. "She really loves that kneazle."

"I turned into a half cat thing." Hermione closed her eyes. "I had a tail. It was three hours of humiliation. Polyjuice isn't meant for use with animal hair."

"It wasn't a great day, but they called in Severus Snape to consult." Luna patted her. "He's been teaching us potions during breaks since. He's the very best."

"If it weren't for him, you wouldn't have discovered the Ferret potion." Neville grinned.

"Ferret potion?" Tom raised a brow as Hermione's smile bloomed bold and fierce.

"I wanted to work on transfiguration. I had a goal in mind." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "There's a potion that can be used to help you learn the spell I was studying. I brewed it. Then I worked it over for months. It was simple enough to feed it to Malfoy. He thought it was pepper up."

"Now, he turns into a ferret at random moments for random lengths of time." Millie clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. "He still doesn't know why." Neville smirked.

"They've called in specialists and curse breakers. I do have an antidote, but he could use the lesson in humility." Hermione giggled. "Someday, I'll develop a cure for his affliction. Probably when I need funding for some other project."

Tom smiled at her. It felt odd to genuinely smile. He'd never really enjoyed anything that didn't cause others pain in his previous life.

"We don't have all day." Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him to the front of the group with her. "I need to get my dragon hide on before the duel."

"I'll make sure our first aid kit is ready." Luna nodded. "Snape sent some more dittany."

"I'll contact Snape this time." Greg frowned. "He'll want to know ahead of time."

"He was a bit upset last time." Neville nodded. "He had just started preparing some rare ingredient when Madame Pomfrey contacted him. I thought he was going to curse Dumbledore. He's bloody terrifying."

"They won't let him serve as my magical guardian, but he's first on my emergency contacts list. It's not like my parents can floo in." Hermione tossed her curls back over her shoulder. "Millie, will you do my hair. Your braids always last longer than mine."

"Why are we preparing for battle?" Tom looked at her as they moved quickly through the halls.

"It's better to be prepared for the worst." Hermione shrugged one shoulder.

"Potter was practicing new hexes with his father and his godfather when they visited last weekend. They put on quite a show in the main courtyard." Neville sighed. "Harry's an arse, but has some talent. Don't let the baffled and haughty expressions fool you. There's power there."


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione watched Tom as they waited near the dueling stage. Outwardly, he was calm and at ease. He smiled. He chuckled at Millie's fussing. He was perfectly charming to the few brave souls that approached them. It was startling that he had no physical tells.

His internal rage bubbled away; so strong that he could not contain it. He entertained notions of eviscerating a particularly curious Ravenclaw. Hermione blinked and took a deep breath. The disturbing imagery was not helping to center her for the upcoming battle.

She narrowed her eyes when he glanced her way. There wasn't much she could do about his thoughts. She sighed at his quirked eyebrow. It really wasn't fair that he could look so adorable while plotting to murder innocent people.

 _She wasn't innocent_. 

Hermione went still.

 _I figured out how to send my thoughts to you. It's quite easy actually._

He smiled smugly at her. She could see that twinkle in his eye that she was sure meant trouble.

 _She wanted to lure me into giving her the information you refused the red headed menace and the Black witch. They offered her money._

Hermione rolled her eyes. Marietta Edgecombe was not the brightest raven in the unkindness. Perhaps she did need a lesson.

 _You want to hurt her as well._

She blushed. Wanting to hurt someone was not the same as having detailed fantasies of spilling their intestines on the floor. A simple hex would be more than enough of a punishment.

 _She also wants to get much better acquainted with me. Much better._

Hermione's fingers tightened around her wand. There were better ways to punish someone. Evisceration was not an option. The suffering wasn't lasting. The body would bleed out too fast.

 _I see your point. Death can be a mercy._

Hermione grinned and set a powerful hex onto her fingertips. She could feel it like a thick jam resting against her skin. There were times to be subtle.

 _Show me your subtlety, witch._

Tom grinned at her over Marietta's shoulder as she approached them. The Ravenclaw was helping to straighten his tie. Hermione dragged in a deep breath. It didn't need to be straightened. Tom was fastidious about his appearance. He was trying to provoke her. Encouraging this behavior was a bad idea.

"Granger." Arcturus Lestrange grabbed her shoulder as she passed the seventh year Slytherin. "He's the son of Merope Gaunt?"

"He is." She looked up into slate grey eyes. A frisson of fear chased down her spine. The Lestrange heir wasn't always predictable, and he'd give no thought to hurting her.

"He is the last direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He should not be living in squalor with the likes of you." His fingers dug deep into her arm. The dragon hide kept him from drawing blood, but there would be bruises. "You will let him find his way home to us or pay the consequences. You do remember the consequences, don't you?"

She managed a nod. The memory of his crucio was seared into her mind.

"There's a good little mud blood." The Slytherin smiled.

"Let her go." Tom's wand pressed up into Arcturus' jaw. "I won't tolerate filth like you touching what is mine."

He shoved Marietta into her arms and smiled directly into her attacker's eyes. Hermione gripped the girl and felt the hex hit its intended target. She let Marietta scramble away. The confusion would mask her attack perfectly.

"Tom, you can't pull your wand on the seventh year prefect." She swallowed. "They can take it up at a prefects' tribunal."

"Take my wand." He thrust the wood toward her. "I don't need it for this."

"You are a fifth year." Arcturus grinned at Tom. "I'll let this slide. There will be no hard feelings when you join us in the dungeons. You belong in the house your family founded."

"I go where I choose." Tom smiled affably. "I do as I please."

Arcturus hadn't figured out how much danger he was in. She could see it in his confident stance. The fool smiled widely at Tom and nodded.

"No one threatens me or mine. A challenge is one thing. There's honor in it, but your not showing the proper respect." Tom stroked a finger along his own cheek. "You've done more than threaten her. You've hurt her."

"She's just a mudblood. They're good for only one thing." Lestrange smiled. "She screamed so loudly on the common room floor. She was my first crucio. You always remember your first."

"I don't." Tom tilted his head slightly. "The unforgivables are vulgar things. Hammers instead of scalpels. I like precision."

Tom stepped closer to the older boy. There was a parchment's width between them. The whole room fell quiet.

"Tornar sense pietat." Tom brushed his fingers through the other boy's hair. "Enjoy."

Arcturus flinched and rubbed his arm. He looked confused and stepped back.

"My ancestor didn't confine himself to a language. He worked spells in several. That one was in Catalan. It translates to return without mercy. It seems so simple, but the best of magic is."

"What does it do?" Arcturus frowned as his shoulder pain intensified.

"At random intervals, you will experience every bit of pain you have ever caused another. It will amplify over time until you go insane." Tom smiled. "If you have any masochistic tendencies you might enjoy the first year."

"Undo it." Arcturus snarled and grabbed Tom by the shirt.

"There is no counter curse." Tom looked down at the hands crumpling his shirt and raised a brow.

"There has to be." Arcturus shook his head and released Tom's shirt. "You just don't know it."

"Perhaps." Tom shrugged and smoothed his clothing with a nonverbal, wandless spell. "The muggles say penitence is good for the soul."

"Penitence? Muggles?" Arcturus backed away from Tom. "My mother will fix this."

The boy turned and fled, knocking into several members of their stunned audience.

Tom rolled his eyes at their response and turned to Hermione.

"May I have my wand back?" He held out his hand. Hermione could see the worry in his eyes. He was afraid of her reaction.

"It's not like you need it." She stroked her fingers along the wood. She bit her lower lip.

"I prefer using it." He shrugged. "It has an elegance about it."

"You have a bit as well." Hermione approached him and handed him his wand. "How am I supposed to top that when the Potter brigade shows up?"

Neville was the first to chuckle. Luna added in her bell like laughter next, and the others followed suit. Hermione smiled and pulled Tom closer to her side as their friends surrounded them.

They had never been so happy before she took the dueling stage.

She looked up at Tom and caught a fleeting smile. It wasn't cruel or feigned. He was happy. Hermione leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled as Luna nodded.

The normal sounds of a large group of students in a confined space filled the room. Hermione knew they were explaining away what they'd seen. It made them comfortable again. She took a deep breath and let it out.

Harry Potter arrived with his attendants. The Gryffindors were all smiles. The tall one in the knit cap trailed behind with his shoulders hunched forward.

"Why is he wearing the hat?" Tom examined the group with obvious care. "It does nothing but draw attention to him."

"Ronald is not the brightest of the Weasley brood. He will let Harry try to fix him before our next charms class. When you tamper with the charm, it changes your skin color. Pain will set in as the pimples grow and burst. His skin will get more irritated the longer he waits to go to Professor Flitwick." Hermione smiled and shook her head. "My monster hair led to a study of beauty charms. There are so many things that pure bloods take for granted. Most of them never even think to try and improve something."

"They are mostly lazy." Tom nodded.

"You can't hurt Harry." Hermione frowned as Professor Pettigrew moved through the crowd towards them. "The professor is off limits as well."

"They don't see a threat because they take their blood purity nonsense to heart." Neville shrugged. "They act like Harry's mom is an exception to the rule. Harry, too."

"Most people see only what they want to see." Luna patted Neville's shoulder.

"Hermione has to work hard to fit into their expectations." Tom sighed and nodded before looking at her. "You challenge it, so they slap you back into place on a regular basis."

"And all is right in their world." Hermione squeezed his hand. "I have to lose."

"Especially after the show I put on." Tom tightened his jaw. "I'm sorry if I have made things more difficult."

"It's so good to see you, Professor." Millie stepped in front of Professor Pettigrew with a warm smile on her face. "I was wondering if you had time to discuss the effects of gilly weed on kneazles."

"My gilly weed will not make your familiar sick." Greg rolled his eyes. "Tell her, sir."

Hermione schooled her features back to her public face. She glanced up at Tom. His bright eyed, innocent mask was back in place. Greg and Millie had bought them time to contain their emotions.

 _They are good friends._

Hermione squeezed his hand. He was clearly uncomfortable with the concept, but he was trying. It would take time.

"I will be happy to deal with your questions during my office hours." Professor Pettigrew smiled snidely. "Now is not the time. I need to speak with Miss Granger."

Millie and Greg stepped back with the appropriate murmurs of apology. The pompous man nodded at them with a benign countenance. He stepped closer, and Hermione could smell the odd scent of cheese that always seemed to linger on the man. It was awful.

"I see you are wearing that armor again, Miss Granger." He shook his head. "I informed you that it was inappropriate last time. I will have to fault you. Potter will have a five spell advantage."


	8. Chapter 8

Lily Potter grimaced as Fawkes flamed into her office with a missive from the headmaster. Teaching the first through fourth years charms classes was exhausting, and she didn't feel like dancing attendance on the old man. She accepted the roll of parchment from the Phoenix and sniffed at the scent of wood fire that always lingered after the bird visited.

She closed her eyes and considered ignoring the summons. A cup of tea would go a long way towards restoring her usual good mood, but Albus was not a patient wizard. She pulled of the ribbon and unrolled the parchment.

Skimming the words, she grabbed her wand and took off toward the infirmary. Harry had been injured. She dropped the parchment in her office without reading further. The halls and stairs all worked with her for once, and she burst into the medical ward to find Dumnledore, Peter, and Madame Pomfrey engaged in a debate.

"We put these protocols in place for a reason." Madame Pomfrey planted her hands on her hips. "The Potter boy has landed her in here regularly for some time now, but this isn't a few broken bones. There is a good chance that Miss Granger will not see the dawn. You need to send the owl to her emergency contact."

"She might die, but he will kill me." Peter whined and pushed shaking fingers through his hair.

"And you'd be deserving of it." Madame Pomfrey glared daggers at the short, round man. "Letting the boy torture that girl. He's a menace."

"Who's a menace? Where is Harry? Is he badly injured?" Lily demanded, but she knew. She knew it deep in her bones. James Potter's heir was forging further into the realms of bullying than his father had. She'd given up trying to stop him. James and the others had turned out well enough.

"Your son will be fine in a few hours. He is a hardy lad and in no way a menace." Dumbledore frowned. "He could have anticipated this."

"What has Harry done?" Lily grimaced.

"He made a mistake." Albus moved closer to her and patted her shoulder. "He used a spell without knowing what it would do to the witch. The spell is designed to cut and resist healing."

"You can distance yourself from it all you like. He cast that curse in front of witnesses. There should be an accounting. Your excuses don't mean a bloody thing to me, and I doubt Miss Granger's family will accept them easily. I've given her all the blood replenishers I can. The wound is horrible. There will be a horrible scar." Madame Pomfrey glared at Albus. "If the Riddle boy hadn't been there, she would be dead."

"He did this to Hermione Granger?" Lily felt her stomach churn. Her son had attacked a muggleborn. "Why?"

"She flaunts herself and her abilities." Peter grumbled. "She needs to be knocked down a peg or two."

"She's a student, Peter, and a gifted one at that." Lily stared at him. How was this man the one she had known since they were eleven?

"She's a pain in the arse." Peter glanced toward the privacy screens. "She holds patents and rakes in money from them. She flaunts her successes."

"She's a student." Lily shifted her glare from Peter to Dumbledore. "We are supposed to be protecting her. Owl her emergency contact."

"Snape will rip me to shreds." Peter grabbed at her arm. "There won't be anything left of me."

"You used my son to hurt another student because you don't like her." Lily jerked her arm free of his plump fingers. "You used my son. There won't be anything left for Severus."

"Lily." He grabbed his throat and kept trying to speak. She shoved him back and sent him sprawling across a bed with a silent spell.

"You can't play on the good old days with me, Peter. I'm not James." She twirled her wand and set a sticking charm to keep him in place.

"I hate to interrupt you." A good looking young wizard stepped out from behind one the privacy screens. "But, I claim right of satisfaction from the professor."

"You can not challenge a professor, Mr. Riddle." Albus stepped toward the student.

"Madame Pomfrey, would you please check on Hermione. She seems somewhat improved, but I would like your confirmation." The young wizard bowed ever so slightly to the mediwitch and watched her disappear behind the privacy screen before turning to face the headmaster. "What is your solution? I'm more than happy to entertain your ideas, but honor demands a response. Two students have been badly injured because you allowed this man to do as he wanted. Your stewardship could be called into question."

Lily watched the young wizard tilt his head. Each movement was measured. Where was his fear? Gods and goddesses, this boy was her son's age. He turned towards her and sighed.

"Your son will be fine. Hermione hit him with a bombarda as she went down." His lips thinned as his gaze strayed to the other privacy screen. "I would urge you to view the memory the headmaster gathered from Millicent Bulstrode. Your son needs you."

The door burst open and four students stumbled into the room. She took a breath as the odd tension in the air disappeared. She smiled at Neville, but he didn't even glance in her direction.

"It took a bit, but we got free of the restraining spells." Luna Lovegood glared at the headmaster. "The owls are on their way. Is she okay?"

"She will be." Riddle relaxed as the others all took up strategic positions around the room.

"You can not stay here." Albus frowned and looked at each of the five students.

"We will not leave until Master Snape arrives." Neville didn't hesitate or fumble. This boy was nothing like the one that hung back from the others every summer.

"Someone taught Potter that spell. Dark magic isn't something we study." Gregory Goyle shook his head. "We don't leave our own unprotected."

"You really need this." The Lovegood girl skipped to her and pressed a charm made from a radish into her hand along with a vial filled with the liquid silver of a memory. "Nargles are particularly plentiful in the headmaster's office."

"The vial is charmed." Neville finally met her eyes. There was no warmth in his gaze. "Hermione has it patented. Just tap it with your wand and say Memoria Revelio. It works like a telbyvision. We sent one to Master Snape as well."

"Severus will listen to you Lily." Dumbledore stepped closer to her. "We can still contain this. Harry needn't be painted as dark wizard because of this."

"The dark arts can't be worked around so easily." Riddle sighed. "You need to see the memory. You need to see what your son has done because he will need guidance."

Lily frowned. Albus was trying to brush this all under the rug. She felt the skin of the radish heat and noticed that the runes carved into it were glowing.

She tapped her wand against the vial and muttered the incantation. A light streamed up and unfurled into an oblong rectangle. The rectangular field shimmered in a silvery wash and then forms coalesced.

She watched as Peter taunted the girl and set a spell on her that kept her still. The duel was a mockery of the art. She'd watched this girl win the schools' championship last year. Her son was good, but he had no chance against her in a fair fight.

The first hex was a mere knee reversal. It was an old favorite of James', a bit painful but in no way a dark spell. The jelly legs and the tarantallegra were similarly familiar, but the look on her son's face as he cast the silencio was chilling.

"Hecate's hounds, he knew what he was going to do." Lily felt her stomach twist as the images froze in place. "He silenced her for a reason."

"He silenced her because he'd fought her like this before." The Bulstrode girl moved to stand beside her. "He knew she'd come out of the stasis with a hex on her lips, so he forced her to work silently. We practice silent spell casting regularly, so it wasn't much help."

"You practice silent spell casting?" Dumbledore looked alarmed.

"We don't have a safety net." Gregory Goyle shrugged. "They hex us in the halls and we can't complain. You won't give us any form of representation, not even a ghost."

Lily looked at this odd band of children that had been opposing the system for years. They had an agenda all their own. Any person with half a brain could see it. There was something deeper going on here, but she didn't give a good, bloody damn. Her son was caught up in this mess.

"I want to see the rest." She looked at the assembled teens. They had somehow seized the power on the room. She saw Neville flick his fingers and the memory resumed.

Harry smirked and wielded his wand with an extra flourish before sending a lavender colored curse at the girl. Her hands fisted at her sides. Hermione Granger fired of her answering hex as she fell back. Blood poured from her wound. It was gruesome.

She watched as the Lovegood girl fell to her knees and poured dittany over the wound only to have it fail.

The blood was pumping out of the wound, spilling over fingers as the others began to help. She watched as Neville sobbed and pressed his robes to the wound, trying to staunch the flow. These children moved together, even the Riddle boy. He started chanting in a language she was unfamiliar with and pulled a deep purple glowing substance from the wound.

"He pulled the dark curse from her flesh." Dumbledore whispered. "He risked it claiming his own flesh. It's not supposed to be possible."

She watched as the boy flung the curse to the ground and burned it away with a simple fire spell. The spell dissipated and she saw Madame Pomfrey talking with the children.

The purple light of the curse had been far paler than the thing that had been ripped from her body. She blinked and looked at the headmaster. He was watching the Riddle boy closely.

"I need to talk to Harry." She looked toward the privacy screen.

"He's awake." Madame Pomfrey nodded toward the screen.

Stepping into the silent cocoon of the privacy screen was a relief. She could see her son's wild hair in its usual disarray. He'd been a sweet child, affectionate and mischievous. With his uncles and father about there wasn't a chance for him to be anything else.

She reached out and stroked his shoulder. Memories of her sweet boy flooded her mind. If there was a battle for his soul, she would win it. He rolled toward her and opened his swollen and bloodshot eyes.

"They told me it was a slicing hex. I practiced it with them when they visited. We were all laughing." Harry wiped at his tears with the back of his hand. "I didn't know it would be that bad."

"You knew it was a slicing hex." Lily raised one eyebrow. "That is not a harmless jinx."

"She wears armor." Harry shook his head. "She's so hard to beat. I just wanted to show her I was better."

"She beat seventh years in the dueling tournament last year. She's bound to be more skilled. She doesn't play quidditch though." Lily patted her son's hand. "We all have our strengths."

"She's never going to notice me now." Harry grumbled. "I should have listened to Dad and Uncle Pads. They told me to use a flower multiplying charm and bury her under them. They only taught me the cutting hex to see if I could learn it."

"Attacking the girl you like is never the right way to get attention." Lily stroked his hair back and looked down into her own eyes. "Miss Granger might forgive you in time. Get some sleep."

"Check on her for me." Harry curled on his side and closed his eyes.

Lily stepped out into the infirmary proper and glared up at the ceiling. It didn't have the answers or any help for dealing with her rage.

"I'm going to rip out Sirius Black's intestines and strangle James with them." It made her feel better to say it.

"I've waited twenty years to hear you say that." Severus Snape glowered at her from across the room.


	9. Chapter 9

"Severus, I didn't know..." Lily frowned at an obvious loss for words. Apparently marriage had filled her wits. She was still beautiful. Her hair was still red. It didn't appear she had changed at all. He swallowed down the urge to hex her. It wouldn't soothe the wounds she'd carved into him years ago, nor would it suit his current aims. "Please, Sev, I didn't realize..."

"You didn't realize that I would be here this quickly or that I might have a vested interest in certain students that attend this sad, pile of rocks?" He tilted his head and watched her pale further. "It's of no consequence. I am aware of the situation, and my patience has reached its limit."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what was going on." Lily took a few small steps toward him. "Harry didn't mean to hurt her. James taught him the bloody spell without explaining how lethal it was."

"I don't want to hear your excuses. Your poor boy, his irresponsible prat of a father, you didn't know. It is an old song. I've heard it all before, and I do not care." Severus snapped his robes against his body. "Where is the rodent?"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was pacing through his office, ranting in languages Peter didn't know. He dropped his eyes to the ground. It was better not to let the old man into his mind at times like these.

Combating his instinct to run was proving harder than ever. Dumbledore, Lily, and Severus were all going to blame him for this.

They were each terrifying in their own right, but the Riddle boy sent chills down his spine. That one was dark.

"Tell me what young Tom did." Albus settled into the chair behind his desk and resumed his dotty headmaster mask.

"He ran his hands over the wounds and chanted. It wasn't a spell." Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

"It wasn't a spell you know." The headmaster corrected him gently. "Did you recognize the language?"

"No." Peter shrugged his shoulders. "One of the others cast a weak muffliato. I could tell he was speaking, but there was no way to discern words."

"They must have been aware he was going to use dark magic and decided to cover for him." Albus steepled his fingers and frowned.

"No, it's their protocol when she's injured." Peter shrugged. "They have protocols for everything. It's all her doing. The Granger girl doesn't leave much to chance."

"Protocols?" Dumbledore sat forward. "She's training them for something?"

"I have no idea what she's doing." Peter fidgeted on the chair. "They have two kneazles in their rooms and a ward system that recasts if you bring a layer down. It's impressive work."

"No matter." Dumbledore waved his hand imperiously. "Continue on with your recounting of Riddle's activities."

"He pulled that curse out of her." Peter shook his head. "I didn't know it was possible, but he dragged it out of her body and tossed it to the ground. It wasn't a light anymore. It was a writhing, purple puddle. He burned it up the flames were green. It was bizarre, and, if I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe it."

"He broke it free of her, but it was fed on her blood." Dumbledore frowned. "It's a dangerous healing form. It was abandoned centuries ago. How and why did the boy learn it?"

"I have no bloody idea, but the boy challenged me. I can't duel a student." Peter shook his head. He definitely couldn't duel that student. He didn't like pain, and he was fairly certain that boy did, at least the inflicting of it.

"I doubt it will come to that." Albus sighed and set his beard dancing around his mouth. "There will be a price for their silence, a steep one to be sure, but a price none the less."

* * *

"You can't attack Peter." Lily rushed forward and grabbed Severus' arm. "Sirius and James would come after you."

"Ah, the lifelong bonds of friendship." Severus shook her hand off and smoothed his robes with careful attention.

She took a step back and looked up at her own childhood friend. There was no warmth in his gaze as he assessed her. His eyes absorbed the light around him and his lips curved in a mocking smile. He was a man she didn't know.

"If your dear husband and his dog approach me, it had best be to offer compensation." Severus looked toward the Granger girl's privacy screen and his features softened. "I was a powerless cast off when they tried to destroy my life. I am not so inconsequential, now. I assure you. They don't want to bother me with any nonsense."

"I'll talk to James." Lily took a step back from Severus. "We will have an offer for you soon."

"Yes, you will." He looked her over carefully. She knew she looked fine, but knowing and feeling became very different things under his gaze. "Your marriage must be a source of constant comfort and delight. You hide up here in Scotland for the better part of each year while he stays home with the dog. A relationship to envy, indeed."

There was nothing she could say. He'd been hurt so badly. James, Peter, and Sirius had been set on fixing him for getting Remus expelled, and she'd let them. She'd ignored their plans. Their plan to make him impotent for a time had gone awry and made him irreversibly infertile. It had been hushed up, and she hadn't found out until years later. It had been a bad shock. She'd married and born children for the man that had stolen the joy of fatherhood from her one time friend.

A soft cough drew her eyes away from the friend she had so thoroughly betrayed. The new student was standing there. He held himself stiffly.

"She's awake and asking for you, sir." The boy inclined his head.

Severus brushed past her and disappeared behind the privacy screen. She watched as the boy followed in his footsteps, and she was alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Severus watched the boy stroke Hermione's hair. He didn't object to the oddly intimate gesture. There were times to observe, and this was certainly one of them. The brown curls wrapped around his fingers as he slid them through their mass. He never caught his fingers in a tangle, but his hand was never free of her hair either. Her hair seemed almost possessive of the young wizard.

Severus focused his attention on her. The bruises were still blooming on her skin. She looked fragile and delicate. He examined her pallid complexion carefully. She wasn't awake, and there was little chance she had been.

The others were back in their dormitory, but they'd done an admirable job of describing the boy's heroic act. It was enough for them. He'd saved Hermione. Severus stroked the warm flesh on the inside of her wrist. It was enough for him as well. He wouldn't scold the boy for lying.

"I'm Tom Riddle, sir." The boy didn't smile or try to charm him. "The newest member of Hermione's house."

"Why did you call me in here?" Severus arched a brow.

"Dumbledore will be back soon, and he will make me leave. That curse, the one that did this, it's not something they just happened on. Abraxas Malfoy learned it from his dark arts tutor. I watched him use it on a house elf here at school."

"You watched him... That takes some getting used to." Severus sighed. "You went to school with my mother."

"We can reminisce at another time." The boys eyes flashed with irritation. Severus his his amusement behind a stoic mask. "Dumbledore wiped Abraxas' memory of the spell and all the other witnesses as well. He only spared me because I was already able to block his invasions and conceal my knowledge. He believed I hadn't seen it."

"So, it's not a common spell." Severus frowned and stroked her wrist again.

"It's rare. I'm not sure it's ever been written down. Roman Dolohov taught Abraxas. I believe it was a family spell."

"There are no more members of the Dolohov family. Karkarov killed Antonin in a duel four years back." Severus closed his eyes. "You think Dumbledore arranged for the boy to learn the spell."

"I think so, yes." The boy nodded. "This felt like an elaborate assassination attempt rather than a dueling club gone wrong."

"Assassination?" Severus raised a brow. "An unusual word choice."

"An apt one. Her refusal to accept the status quo has pushed the old man further into madness." Tom took a deep breath. "He most likely believes she summoned me here."

"I wouldn't call it anything as benign as madness." Severus frowned. "Obsession seems better suited, but that is a semantic argument. Why would he believe she summoned you?"

"He hated me from our first meeting. I was raised in a muggle orphanage in a time quite different from this one." Tom's fingers flexed in Hermione's hair.

"It wasn't a pleasant childhood." Severus spared the boy having to provide the details. "I understand."

"The strong survive." Tom managed a shrug. "My magic protected me. I had already begun to manipulate it by the time he arrived with my letter."

"He took one look at you and saw the next dark lord." Severus chuckled. "He was fairly certain I was headed down the same path. We appear to remind him of an old acquaintance."

"He sees darkness in Hermione as well." Tom's lips twitched. "It's there, but it's in everyone."

"He sees what he wants to see." Severus sighed. "Too many people rely on his faulty vision."

"There is something larger at play here. It's more than a touch of paranoia." Tom frowned. "But, I don't care. I only want her safe."

"We are in agreement." Severus nodded. "She will be my heir as soon as Dumbledore removes the hold he's placed on my filing with the Wizengamot."

"Use this for that. She needs the protection of a house." The boy tilted his head and took a deep breath. "Mine's useless at the moment. She needs to be secure. Whatever that old man is doing makes no difference."

"We need to know what's going on in that old man's mind. I want to be ahead of the problem." Severus noticed her pulse jump under his fingers. "We can't protect her if we don't understand the threat."

"We shore up our defenses and talk to Slughorn. There's a chance he knows something." Tom frowned. "I have to deal with the abusive professor."

"You can't go after Pettigrew." Severus looked into the boy's cold eyes. This child was no stranger to darkness. It roiled within him. "I'll tell him you were just taken with the moment and imply that it's my intention to finish him."

"He's done dark magic. Not bunches, but enough to sense it in others." Hermione opened her eyes. "He'll be scared of Tom."

"He's bound to be more scared of me." Severus grinned down at the girl. "I'm not exactly a fluffy bunny. He has enough sense to be afraid of me, unlike you. You've been listening to us this whole time."

"Not the whole time, but I'm not above eavesdropping when it suits me." She managed a weak smile. "It's all I will be doing for a while."

"You'll be fine in a couple of days." Severus frowned.

"But no one else knows that." Hermione smiled up at him. "Someone told me I should never let an advantage go unused."

"Looking frail is an advantage?" Severus frowned down at her.

"I need to see who tries to take advantage. I know someone will." She reached out and grabbed the boy's hand. Their fingers twined together naturally. "Tom won't let anyone hurt me."

Severus had to agree with her assessment.


	11. Chapter 11

Wanting to kill something or someone wasn't new. Rage was common enough for a pretty boy in an orphanage, for a boy with no family in Slytherin's House. Tom took a deep breath. He was well used to masking his feelings. He had learned to manage his natural responses.

The others were not used to it. They were milling about the rooms with no purpose, creatures of impotence and wrath. Watching Longbottom throw curses at a practice dummy was disturbing. The boy was affable and kind. He was not meant for this.

"That curse Potter used, it's meant to kill." Luna stared out the window. "It was cold. He should be cold. He shouldn't be cosseted while Hermione is punished, but he will be."

Tom nodded. He'd drawn the same conclusion. This world was a haven for Dumbledore's set.

"We need to do something." Greg growled. "It's not right. They hurt her, and it isn't fucking right."

Tom shook his head, and repressed his urges again. Hermione wouldn't want him to lead her little group on a murderous spree. She wouldn't care that they wanted him to lead them. Trying to adhere to her moral strictures was complicated. He hadn't had enough time to figure out how strongly she held her various convictions or where she might be flexible.

Was there enough wiggle room for him to get some needed revenge?

The others would let him. They were lost to their emotions. They needed something to do.

Dumbledore had sent him back to their undisguised dormitory as soon as the old man had entered the infirmary again. He'd known it was coming, but he'd stood and stared at the old wizard, lost in his desire to cast every hex he knew. Severus Snape had pushed him lightly to start him walking.

Leaving her there had been difficult, but Snape seemed capable enough. She was safe. He knew it, but intellect didn't relieve his anxiety.

He needed to do something.

"We need to fix up her room." Luna jumped up and headed toward Hermione's bedroom. "She likes it tidy but only gets time to clean it once in a long while."

Tom followed the group into a utilitarian nightmare. There were none of the personal touches he expected. It was a place to sleep, nothing more.

"See?" Luna looked at him. The blonde clearly wanted him to understand something. He glanced around the room and frowned.

"She doesn't keep personal items out?" He cocked his head.

"She doesn't invest in places." Luna frowned.

"The common room is inviting enough." Tom rubbed the back of his neck.

* * *

James glared at the silvery doe standing next to his bed. The loud screech was his wife's clever addition, a long distance way to torture him. He flopped onto his back and shoved the body next to his. If he was going to have to live through her diatribe, Pads would as well.

"I'm too tired, Prongs." Sirius mumbled. "Later, yeah?"

"Get your lazy arse up." James sat up. "The wife has sent a message."

"What were the two of you thinking?" The doe seemed to grow brighter as it spoke. Both men shaded their eyes with their hands. "You taught him some advanced cutting curse, and he bloody well used it. On a girl. In a bloody duel. The damn thing sliced through her enchanted dragon hide armor. What in hell were you thinking?"

"As a long distance harangue, it lacks a certain punch." Sirius frowned and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Why is Harry using advanced spells in a duel? I thought the dueling club was kept to stunners and minor hexes and jinxes."

Another silver doe ran into the room. This one was glowing brighter than the last. James fought the urge to scream as it bleated out its alarm.

"That's just vindictive, that is." Sirius rubbed his temples.

"Her emergency contact is Severus Snape." The doe spoke with Lily's voice. "He's with her now. I'd bet the Potter rubies he goes after Peter and tries to get Harry expelled. Get your arses up here. Now."

"She's such a dear." Sirius grimaced. "I'm so glad she lives in the wild north most of the time."

"You didn't notice then?" James rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward his lover. "She didn't pretend we'd be sleeping separately. She's more than a bit angry."

"Well, dealing with the greasy git will do that." Sirius waved his hand and summoned his dragon hide trousers. "We can see Harry again and visit Wormtail. It's not all bad."

"Don't start something with Lily." James sighed and yanked up his pants and denims. "She's been sad lately."

"Wormy carrying tales?" Sirius arched a brow.

"I do talk to her. She is my wife." James yanked a grey cashmere jumper from the chest of drawers and yanked it over his head. "She's the mother of my heir."

"I love Lily." Sirius frowned down at their tousled bedsheets. "I just don't fancy sharing."

* * *

Her room was comfortably decorated now. There was a mobile made of crystal flowers that splashed colors on the walls. Green cotton sheets were folded neatly under a floral duvet. The book cases were still stuffed, but pictures were framed and scattered along with odd trinkets making the books seem secondary. This was the room of a young woman.

"Dumbledore won't see her in this room. It's camouflage." Luna grinned. "He will see just what we want him to see. A girl in a bad situation struggling to make a life for herself and her friends."

"Not a real threat." Longbottom grinned. "Not with that picture of Crookshanks dressed as the muggle's Father Christmas."

"It's cute." Millie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the others. "We need to scatter some study materials around the main rooms, and toss some weird notes in the bin."

"I should do it." Neville shrugged. "Dumbledore and my family think I'm just a bit more than a squib. They would expect to find evidence of my issues."

"I'm with you." Greg nodded. "Father still thinks I'm cheating to get my grades. Proud of it, too."

"He thinks you're cheating and he's proud?" Neville shook his head.

"It's a Slytherin thing." Millie chuckled.

"You would think I'd have adapted by now." Neville frowned.

"Why would you? We don't think that way." Luna smirked. "We aren't members of those houses. We're ouroboros. Which brings us to the next situation. We need to teach Tom how to deal with the nonsense tomorrow will bring."

"You showed off a great deal of power." Greg frowned. "You'll have admirers."

"I don't see the problem." Tom looked to Luna. She seemed to know more than the others.

"If they see us as we are, the battle will never end." Luna shrugged. "They'll challenge us again and again."

"An inconvenience." Tom waved his hand dismissively.

"We need them to see us as insignificant. We can be talented, but not superlative. Not yet." Luna sighed. "It's annoying as a nargle infestation, but there it is. Pretend you didn't know what you were doing. It was some weird thing that just happened. They'll want to believe it, so they will."


	12. Chapter 12

The great hall was buzzing with the news of yesterday's duel. He'd managed to begin the disinformation campaign that Luna had insisted was the best course, but he didn't like it. Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes as the fools joked about his accidental magic issues.

"You don't want them to fear you, Tom." Millie frowned at him. "Fear does not breed loyalty."

He glared at Luna as she blithely ate her cinnamon roll. The girl had orchestrated all of this nonsense. He picked at his eggs.

"It will be okay." Neville shrugged a shoulder. "They'll get their jollies, and Hermione will get a day or two to recover."

"I don't care about the moronic twits nattering on about things they couldn't begin to understand." Tom glared down at his plate. "It's the long game that's concerning me. I'm fairly certain we haven't assessed the whole board."

"We haven't seen it yet." Luna nodded. "Soon, though."

"Soon enough?" Greg pushed his porridge bowl away.

"Is it ever soon enough?" Luna frowned. "Professor Pettigrew is fairly late. I wonder if he ran afoul of Crooks?" Mille smirked and took another bite of her toast. "It would be a treat to see the bastard tucked up in the infirmary."

"I wish Crooks would just eat him." Neville pushed his plate to the middle of the table. "He was always the awful one of my parents friends. Too friendly. If Gran hadn't hated him..."

Tom closed his eyes. It was all too easy to understand Neville's allusions. A child abuser was one of Dumbledore's preferred. How far off his onion was the man?

* * *

Remus Lupin glared up at the towers of the castle he hated. His lover's patronus had arrived hours ago, but it had taken him far too long to arrange the portkey from Salem.

The Americans were quite fond of their red tape, but they didn't fuss about blood status or his furry issues.

Remus grimaced as he watched his former head of house approach the gates to retrieve him. He didn't want to put on his polite face. He wanted to rip into them for allowing this to happen.

"Mr. Lupin." The tartan clad witch nodded her greeting and opened the gate. "It's good of you to come."

He could smell the lie. The sour scent of dishonesty irritated him further. It was one day until the new moon. Did she think he would run wild and hurt her beloved students?

"I'm no happier to be here than you are to have me." Remus sighed. "Nothing ever changes at this mouldering pile of rocks."

"Hogwarts served you well." Professor McGonagall sniffed.

"No, Durmstrang served me well when this place spat me out for the actions of others." Remus took a deep breath.

"The headmaster arranged that for you." She narrowed her eyes and gestured him toward the opening doors. "The best was made of a bad situation."

"You shipped off the victims." He ran his hands along his well tailored robes. "That we survived and thrived in exile has nothing to do with you. I am not interested in your justifications or any of the other lies you tell yourself that enable you to sleep at night. I promise not to run amuck and gobble up your students. May we head to the infirmary? I'm sure you won't let me make my own way. I'm far too dangerous."

He enjoyed watching her spine stiffen as his sarcasm hit her. It was petty. It was mean. He smirked at her perfect posture. He could live with it.

The infirmary was unchanged since his last visit. He glared at the last bed he'd ever slept in while attending school here.

"Remus." Severus' voice cut through the morass of self pity and dragged him forward to the current crisis. He turned and took in his lover's haggard appearance with a frown.

"Severus." Remus stepped closer, but decided not to be openly affectionate here. Why load the cannon for others to use? "How is she?"

"She's a mess." Severus sighed. "Another Potter driven bit of insanity."

"We can deal with that later. You need to get some rest." Remus rubbed his thumb along Severus' stubble. "I'm sure the old tabby cat has arranged a rooms for us."

"Lily will have summoned your former friends. I don't want to leave her unprotected." Severus frowned. "There's her young man, too."

"Which has you more concerned?" Remus chuckles as Severus growled at him. "I promise to watch over our girl. Go. Get some sleep. Can't make them quake in their boots if your dozing off."

"Fine. I will lie down on the bed next to hers." Severus leaned in against him and pressed his lips right next to Remus' ear. "You can watch over the both of us."

Remus nodded slightly as lover pressed a gentle kiss just below his ear. Being back at Hogwarts might not be so gods be damned awful after all.

* * *

Peter hated this assignment. If he was honest, he hated most of them, but this one had earned a special place in his heart. Dumbledore never took the bloody risks. He didn't have to face the horror of it all.

Two kneazle mixes were running him ragged in some elaborate game only they understood. He had no idea how to escape the wards. The small gap he'd slid through was closed now. The girl had cast wards that automatically reset. How in bloody hell did a fifth year manage that?

The orange beast was closing in. Peter felt his lungs burn as the feline neared. The creature's fetid breath surrounded him with the ranks scent of rotted fish. He managed to miss the claws, but the breeze of the passing paw was horrifying all the same. His little rodent heart couldn't take much more. He was out of options. He didn't want to be their supper, so he'd have to take his chance with the wards.

He let his body resume its natural form and managed one breath before the wards activated and sent him crashing to the floor in an insensate heap.


	13. Chapter 13

Tom managed not to grin as he stared down the man they'd caught in their rooms. The corpulent creature reeked of urine and couldn't manage to lift his bulk from their floors. The odd tracery of enlarged cat bites on his body told a tale all its own. He was sweating and his eyes darted around from person to person. There were no friendly faces, but every time his eyes landed on Tom he paled a bit. He was looking rather ghost like at the moment.

"He was inside our wards, sir." Neville stared solemnly at Dumbledore. "He was not admitted. He has neither our permission nor any feasible reason to be within our wards."

"Students can not lock teachers out of their dormitories." Albus smiled at the boy patronizingly. "It would be too dangerous."

"We have no wards that block you or any head of house. We submit to regular inspections." Millicent squeezed her hands in front of her. "You gave us permission to put up the wards because we had no portrait. We have had every head of house tramp through our rooms without notice. We've put up with invasive searches that are not done in the regular dormitories. This was not a search. This was an invasion of our privacy."

"You refuse to live within the confines of your sorted houses." Dumbledore's benevolent act slipped a bit as his voice developed an edge. "You have no right to privacy in these rooms."

"Perhaps, if the rules were codified?" Tom looked up and made sure to look interested and caring. It wouldn't do for the others to see how much he longed to kill the wastrel. "Then we would be sure of our expectations."

"This is not a recognized house." Dumbledore straightened up taking on his authoritarian aspect.

"The school recognizes us." Luna tilted her head and blinked slowly. "You can not refute that."

"The school is a magical building with the barest sensibility." Dumbledore frowned. "The position of headmaster exists for a reason. My judgement is required."

"It would be easier for us all if they were openly acknowledged as a house." Professor Flitwick smiled up at the children. "The charm work on these wards is truly remarkable. They are designed to open for approved individuals seeking entrance for a legitimate reason."

"I wonder why they trapped the professor here." Tom tilted his head. "Was he not here on your orders?"

Dumbledore glared at him, making no effort to conceal his animosity behind a grandfatherly mien. Keeping his own look of curiosity in place required no effort. He'd learned to conceal his emotions early on in life.

"I asked him to check in on your group." Dumbledore managed to form a pained version of concern on his face, but his hands were fisted in the folds of his robes. "I suppose he overstepped his bounds unintentionally."

"I suppose accidents happen." Greg paced over to the bookcase. "Master Snape is here. Perhaps, you could explain it to him."

"He would be able to soothe our parents' concerns." Luna smiled in her distracted way as she turned a small crystal around in her hand repeatedly. "My father trusts him."

"I believe he is far too busy with Miss Granger to deal with this." Dumbledore sighed. "You can not expect him to come running."

"No. Severus doesn't much care for running." A tall man with an interesting array of telling scars stepped into their quarters. "He has me for that."

"Master Lupin." Neville grinned widely at the man. "I was sure you'd be with Hermione."

"I watched our girl, so Severus could rest his weary head." He grinned and mussed the tall boy's hair. "He's back with her, so here I am. You needn't worry so. She's tough. She'll come through this with nothing more than a few scars."

"What's a few scars?" The group chimed from around the room in an obviously conditioned response. They trusted this man.

"I think I need to be introduced to someone." The man nodded toward Tom. "It's always best to observe the niceties."

Neville blushed at the gentle rebuke. This man was clearly valued by the group. He decided to remove Neville's discomfort.

"It's this sorry business, I'm afraid." He reached out his hand toward the man. "I'm Tom Riddle, sir."

"Remus Lupin." The quick flash of amber in his eyes was quite revealing. A werewolf. "I teach this lot defense during vacations."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lupin." Tom nodded. "I wish it was under better circumstances."

"As do I." Remus stepped fully into the room, and Pettigrew whimpered.

"Ah, Wormtail." The werewolf flashed his teeth in a mimicry of a smile. "Still sneaking about?"

"Moony, I wasn't doing anything wrong." The man squealed and tried to back up. "I promise."

Remus cocked his head, and took a deep breath. The disgusted wrinkle of his nose was a bit theatrical, but It managed to draw Dumbledore out of his calm. The older wizard stepped in front of his toady.

"Mr. Lupin, you have no business here." He pulled his body up to its tallest. "I will not have you intimidating my staff."

"Good." Remus glanced down at the filthy man on the floor. "I'd much rather take him apart piece by piece in a duel. Consider yourself challenged, Peter. Your headmaster doesn't hold my leash anymore."

"I'm sorry." Pettigrew tossed himself at his feet. "I offer my deepest apologies for all the crap things I've done to you."

"I could care less what you've done to me." Remus shook his head slightly. "But Hermione and these kids, they're part of my pack. You've hurt them for the last time."

"I can not permit you to challenge my employees, Mr. Lupin. It's unseemly." Dumbledore patted the top of Pettigrew's head. "He is a wizard in good standing. He can not lower himself to battle a beast."

"He will fight me or he will run." Remus looked directly into the headmaster's eyes. "Either way he's done hurting me and mine."

"He's harmed you in the past?" Tom tilted his head. "And gone unpunished?"

"Yes." Remus looked at him clearly picking up on his satisfaction.

"When did Hogwarts stop teaching the laws and rituals of magical honor?" Tom looked at Dumbledore and cocked a brow. "He can't run. He will have to face Master Lupin. His previous debts of honor will force him or eat his magic. It would be a shame to see him turned into a squib."

* * *

Lily watched James and Sirius stride toward her across the courtyard. They looked brash and stupid. Their wide grins irked her. Her son was suffering. He'd hurt another student. Frequently, if the girl's friends were to be believed. The situation was dire, but there they were grinning like buffoons.

She wanted to hex them so badly.

"Could you two, please, pick up the pace." She glared at James as they drew near. "Remus arrived, and he's not been a voice of reason. Severus won't leave the girl alone. The students sit with her during their free periods, but Severus or Remus are always there."

"Dumbledore isn't going to punish our son for a mistake. I'll take the slap on the wrist for teaching him the spell." James patted her shoulder gently. "This will all be forgotten in the blink of an eye."

"The Board of Governors has been called to session." Lily stepped away from her husband's touch. "This won't be forgotten."

"The girl's a nobody." Sirius frowned. "How is she garnering all this attention?"

"The witch in question is brilliant. She already holds patents on spells. The centaurs allow her to visit with them. The elves adore her. I think she's been learning mermish. Her parents may be muggles, but Severus and Remus have all but adopted her. Hermione Granger may not have a pureblood family at her back, but don't assume that makes her weak."

"She's the bird Neville hangs about with, right?" Sirius grinned. "We'll have a word with Neville, and he'll talk her down."

Lily rolled her eyes. If Harry's future wasn't at risk, she'd let them flounder about, but their gormless idiocy did her no good now.

"Neville won't even try." Lily sighed. "Not for you, not for his parents, not for his grandmother. He is a loyal friend and a kind lad. You can't just smooth this over."

"We can, and we will." James grabbed her wrist and pulled her between them. "Dumbledore will help us."

"Well, who will help him?" Lily yanked her arm free of his grasp.

* * *

Severus watched as Tom stroked Hermione's hair. The boy's devotion to her was obvious as long as the privacy screen was in place. They would make a powerful pair.

In the distant future.

In the very, distant future.

Remus actually approved the boy. Dark, but not given over to it. Polite, but menacing. They were apt enough descriptors.

"I was on that road." Tom frowned. "The one that leads to being like Dumbledore. He's beyond caring about the right and wrong of a situation, beyond seeing the cost of his ambitions. He would have succeeded in turning dark. I was on the verge of it."

"As was I." Severus shrugged. "I think he wants to create a new Grindelwald. May the gods and goddesses help us if he ever succeeds."

"What saved you?" Tom looked up at him with curiosity.

"Friendship and love." Severus couldn't help but smile. "Black and Potter, they were going to use Remus as a weapon, but their plan didn't quite work. Remus and I wound up together, scared and clinging to the familiar. It was, in a way, my salvation."

"I found her." Tom stroked her arm lightly making sure to leave her sleeping. "Dumbledore always used to preach about love being the answer, but he doesn't see it."

"It's hard to identify something if you've never known it." Severus rested a hand on Tom's shoulder. "He might understand the concept, but he is incapable of truly knowing what it is to love."


End file.
